


sirens (in the beat of your heart)

by angellwings



Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Long Shot, Moving On, One Shot, Requited Love, Sylvie Brett is Trying, The Love Is Actually Requited They're Just Idiots, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29454192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angellwings/pseuds/angellwings
Summary: She’d like to say she knew it was a bad idea from the minute they met, but that wasn’t true.She liked him. She wasn’t trying to flirt with him, to be clear, but she did like him. Didn’t even really know anything about him except for his rank. But his bright eyes that were full of intention and his easy smile certainly weren’t deterrents. No matter how attractive he was, flirting was out of the question. Reason number one, she was on the job and, reason number two, Casey was only a few feet away.
Relationships: Sylvie Brett/Greg Grainger, Sylvie Brett/Matthew Casey
Comments: 47
Kudos: 154





	sirens (in the beat of your heart)

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** So I was listening to Reputation the other day and Getaway Car came on. It immediately made me think of Sylvie and Greg and then I thought about my theories for 907 and my _wishes_ for 907 and decided to try writing a one shot based on all of that. I did not expect it to be this long, haha. Sorry about that! Now, I don’t expect the episode will go like this at all, but if I were writing the show this is how I would do it. ;) Also, there is a dialogue exchange in here that was given to me by katertots and I need you all to know that because she is BRILLIANT AND I LOVE HER.
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> xoxo
> 
> PS - as usual I'm going to post now and proof read later lol. Sorry for typos.

_******_

_No, nothing good starts in a getaway car..._

_******_

She’d like to say she knew it was a bad idea from the minute they met, but that wasn’t true.

She liked him. She wasn’t trying to flirt with him, to be clear, but she did like him. Didn’t even really know anything about him except for his rank. But his bright eyes that were full of intention and his easy smile certainly weren’t deterrents. No matter how attractive he was, flirting was out of the question. Reason number one, she was on the job and, reason number two, Casey was only a few feet away.

While she was pretty certain he didn’t feel for her what she felt for him, he’d been adamant that he felt _something_ so the last thing she wanted to do was to hurt him. If he had any amount of feelings for her then seeing her openly flirt with the Lieutenant from 40 would probably hurt. She knew that. Not to mention, she’d never been a tease and flirting with this man while she was still hurting over her false start with Matt seemed wrong somehow. She wouldn’t actually be doing anything wrong, she knew that, but whatever it led to would end badly.

Besides, despite herself, she wasn’t quite ready to let go of Matt yet.

She knew better and it was mortifying to admit, but a part of her still hoped he might turn this sinking ship around and fight for her. It was a pipe dream and it wasn’t helpful. She was completely aware, but did she know how to give it up? 

No, she didn’t.

******

_I struck a match and blew your mind,_

_But I didn't mean it,_

_And you didn't see it._

******

It was only a rescue crush.

That’s what she’d been repeating to herself for the past 24 hours ever since the woman they rescued from that billboard call showed up at the firehouse looking for Matt.

Not that she had a right to be upset if it _was_ more than a rescue crush.

She was the one who asked for space after all. Matt was free to see anyone he wanted.

But did the opportunity have to present itself so _soon_ after she’d asked for space? The Universe couldn’t allow her just another week or two to recover a little? She’d like to at least recover some of her pride first before she has to put on a brave face and watch Matt date other women.

She headed to Molly’s because she needed a drink and she thought Stella might need some girl time. Severide’s been strange lately and Kidd has no idea why.

Stella poured her whiskey without even asking, which made Sylvie wonder how often she’d been ordering it lately. Probably too much, but in case Matt showed up she wanted to be just buzzed enough to not immediately _feel_ his presence in the room. God, why did she have to like him so damn much? She knew it was foolish from the jump but how the hell was she supposed to resist him when he was always _there_ and available to her? (Damn Matt Casey and the way he let her lean on his very sturdy shoulders.)

They talked for a moment and it honestly made Sylvie feel ten times better to focus on someone else for a change. Being there for other people has always been a comfort for her. She was sure if she still went to counseling (she should but that’s a self-scolding lecture for another time) someone would link it back to the fact that she was adopted and being there for others meant they’re less likely to abandon her. Whatever the reason, she didn’t care. When her friends needed her, she forgot her own struggles and showed up. For the first little while she was at Molly’s, Stella needed her to show up.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the Lieutenant from the call the previous morning and tried her hardest not to look interested. But Stella caught her checking him out. She brushed it off as nothing, but Sylvie knew Kidd didn’t believe her as she went to get the Lieutenant’s drink order.

While he was waiting he turned to look at her and she pretended not to notice.

Suddenly, he said, “you’re Sylvie Brett.”

She was surprised that he knew her name. They never got that far yesterday morning and then she was further surprised that he actually wanted to talk to her when he was obviously there with his friends. (He ordered three drinks. They couldn’t all be for him.)

“I am,” she replied.

“Greg Grainger,” he declared, motioning to himself. “And I owe you a report on the McHolland-Rutledge stare down.”

She grinned, recalling their earlier conversation, as he moved further down the bar to the other side of her. “Oh, I already heard. It sounds like Mouch really put him in his place.”

“Yeah, well, Rutledge doesn’t give up so easily.”

“Well, neither does Mouch.”

51 always stuck together. If he thought she’d concede then she’d have to disappoint him -- even if this was all one big joke. 

“Okay,” he said, nodding his head. “Well, there’s gonna be consequences.”

His eyes were full of intent again, like they were on the call. She was barely able to look at him because it’d been so long since anyone had looked at her with _that_ kind of determination. She glanced at him out of her peripheral vision as she brought her glass of whiskey to her lips. “Bring it on.”

Stella placed Grainger’s order in front of him. He grabbed one of the glasses, but didn't move to walk away.

“Do you need to take those to your...friends?” She tripped over the last word because she honestly wasn’t sure if she was prepared for his answer.

“Nah,” he answered, meeting her eyes and never once letting his gaze flinch away from hers. “They can wait.”

 _Oh_ , okay then. When was the last time a man was this straightforward about his interest? There was no pretence here and no way for her to misinterpret his actions. That was almost more attractive than his earnest eyes and eager grin.

“Sure, they can,” she quipped with a teasing grin. “But no matter how long you stay over here, you won’t convince me to give up on Mouch. Rutledge won’t know what hit him. Watch.”

He smirked and shrugged. “We’ll see what happens.”

“Really?” She asked, smiling in disbelief. “Okay, then prepare to lose.”

He shook his head, a wide smile still stretching across his face. “I gotta tell you. I think I’m gonna win either way.”

“Why’s that?” She grinned coyly at him. She knew there was some sort of snark coming. She could tell.

God, she was truly enjoying this. There was no complicated history. No doubt that she wasn’t good enough or fear that she was being measured up against someone else. There were just the two of them. Greg Grainger was a blank page and it had been a while since Sylvie’s seen one of those. She found it refreshing.

“Because no matter who wins this prank war, it means I had the chance to bump into Sylvie Brett and if that isn’t a win-win then I don’t know what is.”

There was a moment of quiet where she took him in. His confident grin, wide stance, and genuinely interested expression…

If it weren’t for Matt she would have been putty in his hands.

“That was smooth,” she told him, feeling her cheeks heat at the deliberate attention.

“It’s the truth,” he admitted. “And since I’m not the type to beat around the bush--”

She held her breath, waiting for the moment he asked to see how she’d feel. She honestly hadn’t considered someone being interested this soon after Matt. She hadn’t gone looking for it and she hadn’t meant to attract Grainger’s interest. It felt very sudden.

“--could I take you out for a drink sometime?”

Her stomach dipped. Not in disappointment. She wanted him to ask, actually. She’d enjoyed talking with him. No, it dipped in dread and then hardened like a ball of lead. Trying to imagine herself with someone besides Matt felt _wrong_. It was funny how one make out session could set your hopes so high. In the two minutes they’d kissed she’d actually thought she stood a chance and her imagination had run wild. It was hard to forget something she wanted that badly. 

Even for a guy like Greg.

“I--I’m sorry,” she replied with an apologetic grimace and a shake of her head. “I do really like you, but I can’t. I’m just coming off of something...complicated, I guess, and my head really isn’t in the right place to date anyone. Even someone as close to perfect as you.”

His eyes flashed with disappointment but he recovered quickly, smiling wanly at her. “Close to perfect, huh?” 

She chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, close to perfect.”

“Guess I’ll have to figure out how to get a little _closer_ to perfect then, won’t I?”

“Greg--”

“No, no,” he said, waving a hand to stop her. “It’s fine. I completely get it. I’ve been there before. But I’m just saying, don’t count me out. The offer stands if you ever change your mind.”

Her smile warmed as she responded. “I’ll think about it.”

That intent and determination was back in his eyes. He wasn’t going to give up easily, was he?

“That’s all I ask.” He nodded and picked up his other two drinks. “I should get these to my friends.”

“Yeah, of course,” she replied. “See you around, Grainger.”

“See you around, Brett, but sooner rather than later I hope.”

She bit her bottom lip and watched him walk away. Damn, he had a good walk too. Ugh, why did a man like that have to come around while her heart was still wrapped up in Matt? It was insanely unfair.

******

_I wanted to leave him,_

_I needed a reason._

_******_

“I’m gonna go mingle,” she told Mackey as soon as Joe came around with that brotherly stare. She knew that stare. She was not getting involved in this. 

“What happened to having my back?” Mackey called after her with a grin.

She downed the rest of her vodka tonic as she headed to the door that led back into the bar. It was too cold for the patio anyway, no matter how many heaters Herrmann tried to install.

Man, this week had been rough.

It hadn’t started that way. She’d felt encouraged at the beginning. She was starting to miss Matt and it had been almost three weeks since their talk in his quarters. He’d been really good about giving her space. So, she thought maybe…

Maybe they could be friends again.

She’d missed talking to him -- about everything and nothing. Just... _talking_.

So, she’d let him know he didn’t have to give her such a wide berth anymore. It was a good exchange. Less awkward than any they’d had since they kissed. It almost felt like they were _them_ again. But that proved to be dangerous. Matt had been a little hard on Gallo and for a moment she’d entertained the thought that him being quick to anger might have had something to do with her. She’d wanted to believe that it meant something -- that he wanted more than what they had.

But that belief died the second she nearly crashed into a familiar looking redhead on the apparatus floor. The Rescue Crush. Who was standing next to Matt, looking extremely smitten, while he clumsily introduced them. Sydney. Her name was Sydney. And Matt was holding a folded up t-shirt in his hand. He looked panicked and caught. She could put together all the pieces and it made her chest ache and her feet move faster. She wanted out of the house and away -- which was easily remedied since she had a call anyway.

She threw herself into the job after that. She and Mackey had a mystery to solve. That was plenty to keep her from thinking about Sydney, at least until they solved it and cleared their names with their new Field Chief.

Now, she was at Molly’s and so was Matt. She’d told Mackey the basics of what happened and her truth -- all she wanted was for Matt to be happy. Clearly, he was, and she didn’t factor into that happiness at all. Did that knowledge hurt? Hell yes. She was still lingering in the feeling of his kiss and he was out dating someone new. For as real as he claimed his feelings were, he certainly moved on _fast_.

Again, not that she had a right to be angry about it. She asked for space. She told them they couldn’t happen. He had a right to see whoever she wanted. 

But god did it hurt to have all her worst fears confirmed. She felt like a moron. How could she ever have thought she’d be able to compete with the great Gabby Dawson? She’d never measure up in her professional life so why did she dare to think she would in her personal one?

She didn’t want to feel this anymore. She didn’t want to be in love with Matt and she didn’t want to feel so utterly alone. She wanted someone to choose her and love her above anyone else. She didn’t want to be with someone who would always want another more than her. Was that so impossible? It felt impossible.

She simply wanted a break from all the angst. Mackey was right. She needed to have fun.

She sat down on a barstool in front of Herrmann and slapped the bartop excitedly. “Herrmann, make me an old fashioned.”

“After you guzzled that vodka tonic?” He asked her warily. “You sure?”

“Positive!” She exclaimed. “Tonight is a night to let loose and have fun. I’m young! I’m single! And I’m--”

“Ready to mingle?” 

She turned her head slowly to find Greg Grainger grinning broadly at her.

“Cliché, I know. But it’s completely accurate,” she told him with a decisive nod.

He smirked at her and then flagged Herrmann down. “Put her drinks on my tab.”

Herrmann raised his brows and then glanced to Sylvie for approval.

Grainger lifted one brow at her in a challenge. “You did say you were ready to mingle.”

“Oh, what the hell,” Sylvie replied with a light laugh. “Go ahead, Herrmann. If he wants to buy my drinks then let him.”

“You got it, Brett,” Herrmann agreed, setting down her old fashion. “What can I get you, Lieutenant, your usual beer?”

“Nah,” he said, shaking his head and pointing at Sylvie’s old fashioned. “I’ll have what she’s having.”

Sylvie giggled softly at him. “Was that a purposeful _When Harry Met Sally_ reference?”

“Maybe,” he replied, taking up the stool next to hers. “Maybe not.”

“You don’t even know what _When Harry Met Sally_ is, do you?”

“Not so much, no.”

She laughed again and shook her head. It felt entirely too good to laugh. She missed laughing.

“You thought anymore about my offer?” He asked, eyes scanning her face curiously.

Honestly, no she hadn’t. Which is even more reason she should say no a second time.

She let out a loud exhale as her sadness from earlier found her again. A quiet dry chuckle escaped her lips before she met his eyes with as serious an expression as she could muster.

“You don’t want to date me.”

A slow smile curved over his lips, tugging first at the corners and then stretching wider to reveal his teeth. It was not a perfect smile, but certainly a charming one. “Is that so?”

“I’m a mess. Emotionally. Otherwise, I’m a bit of an obsessive compulsive neat freak. I have a label maker and label basically everything it’s acceptable to label. Emotionally, though, I don’t know down from up most of the time and, trust me, you don’t want to come anywhere near that. _Plus,_ there’s the fact that my relationships keep getting shorter and shorter. Two failed engagements, one lasted _years_ and the second one only 3 months. And then the recent complicated... _thing_. Didn’t even get five minutes to enjoy that.” She took a large gulping sip of her old fashioned to try and quell her rambling. It didn’t work. “So, you know, watch out cause if I do decide to date you it may be over in sixty seconds.”

 _Jesus, just tell him to flee for his life why don’t you, Sylvie?_ She thought as she pressed her lips together and pointedly stared down at the bartop.

“I don’t know why I just told you all of that,” she confessed.

He shrugged and smirked, taking a slow sip of his own drink before speaking. “I don’t know either, and I don’t know what to say about most of it but I can tell you one thing.”

“What’s that?” She asked him with a tired sigh.

“Anything we have would last a hell of a lot longer than five minutes,” he quipped with a derisive snort. “Who the hell would walk away from you after only five minutes? He sounds like an idiot.”

She laughed again, rubbing a hand over her face as she did. “He’s not an idiot. It’s just--”

“Complicated, yeah, you said,” Greg replied with a nod. “Okay, how about this, we just...go to dinner. We start the night as friends and whether or not we end the night that way is completely up to you. I mean, it’s another win-win for me. Either way I get dinner with you.”

“Just dinner...as friends?” She asked skeptically.

He nodded. “As friends. Unless you change your mind. I can be pretty persuasive when I want to be.”

The determined look in his eyes told her that much was very true. Hell, he’d convinced her to actually go to dinner hadn’t he? “I have no doubt about that. Okay, fine. Dinner tomorrow night. _As friends_.”

He chuckled and clinked his lowball glass against hers. “To new friends.”

“To new friends,” she repeated with a fond grin.

“For now anyway,” he said, pointing a teasing smirk at her.

She bit her bottom lip to hold back a smile and, for the first time since he began to show interest, wondered how long she was going to be able to resist Greg Grainger. He certainly seemed to have her number.

And she definitely didn’t hate it.

******

_He poisoned the well, I was lying to myself,_

_I knew it from the first old fashioned, we were cursed._

_******_

The night didn’t go the way she planned.

They had dinner and Greg was perfect. Funny, charming, open, and warm. He was straightforward and confident. No games or hesitation. He liked her and he wanted her to know that.

It was his honesty that did her in.

He told her where things went was up to her and after an entire evening of feeling appreciated and truly _seen_ she found herself no longer wanting to _only_ be his friend. He made her feel safe and special. She’d missed that feeling.

As they reached his Jeep, they stopped on the sidewalk. She stepped into his space and gently coiled her fingers around the collar of his coat.

“One last opportunity to back out,” she warned him. “I meant it when I told you that you don’t want to date me. I’m a mess.”

His hands settled on her hips as a grin spread across his face. “I’ll take my chances.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” she replied with a quiet laugh before yanking him forward and bringing his lips down to hers.

He’d tugged her into him and swept her away with every press of his lips and taste of him on her tongue. His kisses weren’t urgent and they weren’t reverent. They were slow and thorough as if he wanted to remember every moment — as if his moments with her were precious. Every touch and caress was _heady_.

She knew part of it was her own desperation to feel _something_ and to have someone return that something. She wanted a connection and to not feel so alone. She craved the possibility of finding a person who truly wanted _her_.

And here was Greg handing her all of that on a silver platter.

It was wonderfully gratifying.

Which is how she ended up waking up in his bed with his _very_ sculpted arm slung over her bare waist and her back pressed into his firm only slightly hairy naked chest. She couldn’t help but grin at their position. She felt very small next to him. Somehow, she found that oddly comforting.

The alarm went off from her phone on his nightstand and she rubbed her eyes with a wince. What time did she set her alarm for normally? Greg stirred behind her and she felt him drop a soft fluttery kiss to her neck.

“Morning,” he greeted sleepily.

She grabbed her phone and then turned in his arms to face him, beaming brightly. “Morning.”

Her eyes drifted from his to look at the time on her phone. She felt panic squeeze her chest. “Oh no. I set my alarm as if I were at home. If I try and run back to my place now I’ll never make it to 51 in time for bells up.”

He grimaced and tucked her further into him. “You don’t have your gear?”

Gear in her case is trousers, a shirt, and her jacket, but it was cute that he called it that. “I have a spare uniform in my locker. It’s my walk of shame outfit that I’m worried about.”

He chuckled. The sound was deep and groggy. “If you’re ashamed of what we did last night then I must have done it wrong.”

She laughed as her cheeks flushed and emphatically shook her head. “You did not do anything wrong last night. Trust me. I am sore in a lot of places which can only mean you did a lot of things very _right_.”

“If we didn’t have shift I’d tell you to stay in this very spot so I could keep doing things _right_ ,” Greg teased, dipping his head to kiss her slowly and intrusively.

She pulled away from him reluctantly while playfully shoving at his chest. “No. No, we have to get up. I need to figure out how not to look as if I’ve been out all night. God, you’re a bad influence.”

“Maybe that’s what you need,” he quipped with a crooked grin as he let her escape the bed. “A little bit of corruption.”

She flashed him a sinful smile and a heated glance. “What makes you think I’m not the one corrupting _you_?”

“Fine by me,” he replied, hands blameless held up in the air. “Corrupt me all day long, Brett. Sounds like the best kind of torture.”

Sylvie swiped a CFD hoodie from his coat rack by his bedroom door. “Can I borrow this?”

“Sure,” he agreed easily as he climbed out of bed. “As long as you let me take you to breakfast after shift.”

She gave him a look of feigned offense. “Are you blackmailing me for a second date?”

“Not blackmailing,” he answered, pulling on his boxers and then striding toward her with an unbearably confident swagger. “More like... _negotiating_.”

“Mhmm,” she agreed sarcastically while she picked up the pile of her clothes on the floor. Once she was standing upright, Greg’s hands encircled her waist. “Sure, it is. But fine, I suppose I can pencil you in.”

“How generous of you,” he replied with a mirthful grin.

She shrugged with playful false modesty. “I’m a really giving person. Everyone says so. I’m going to get changed and go, but I will for sure see you—“

“You think you’re gonna take a cab out of here?” He asked with a scowl. “No way. I can be ready in ten minutes. Let me drive you.”

“Ten minutes?” She glared at him warily. “Because I need to get to the house pretty much immediately so I have time to shower and change.”

“Ten minutes,” he promised, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

True to his word, they were out the door and in his Jeep ten minutes later. Since he was picking her up after shift to go to breakfast she left her sweater in his backseat. She’d walked out of his apartment in her jeans and white camisole underneath his CFD hoodie. She looked more casual than she normally did and her shoes were all wrong for this outfit (heeled ankle booties didn’t exactly match a raggedy old zip up hoodie), but the outfit didn’t scream walk of shame and that was the best she could wish for right now.

She kissed Greg one more time before getting out of his Jeep and walking across the apron. She was almost an hour early so no one else from second shift seemed to have arrived yet. She nodded to a few people from first shift as she passed them but never stopped walking toward the locker room.

She needed to at least be showered before anyone else arrived. She hurriedly turned the corner into the locker room and nearly ran right into a set of sturdy shoulders and solid chest.

“Whoops,” she murmured as she stopped and then dodged the person. “Sorry about—“

The apology died on her lips when she looked up and met Matt’s blue eyes.

“Oh,” she said with a nervous gulp. “Hi.”

He took in a long breath, his eyes staying firmly on hers, and a painfully soft smile formed on his face. It was as if she was the exact person he wanted to see at that moment. In spite of her enjoyable morning with Greg, that soft smile caused a flip in her stomach like taking a sudden dip on a roller coaster.

“Hey,” he replied. “You’re in early.”

“Oh, uh, yeah…”

Well, this is awkward.

“I’ve gotta borrow the showers before changing out,” she explained vaguely.

Because she smelled like Greg’s cologne and _sex_. Though she’d never say that outloud, not to Matt.

He nodded and then his brow furrowed as he gave her a once over. She watched him put together her outfit with her messy hair and the faint scent of cologne that wafted around them. Maybe it was her imagination, but she could have sworn he looked upset — _hurt_. Not that he had a right to, considering _Sydney_. She refused to feel guilty, even as it tried to encroach on her emotions.

She held her head higher and her shoulders straighter. “Well, I should get ready. I’ve got less than an hour before bells up.”

He nodded but the motion was stiff and then swallowed thickly. “Right, yeah. I’m just headed to my quarters to get a head start on paperwork anyway.”

He waved awkwardly as he stepped backward toward the locker room entrance. She returned the gesture with a forced smile.

Well, truthfully, that could have gone much worse.

******

_You were drivin' the getaway car,_

_We were flyin', but we'd never get far._

******

Greg picking her up for breakfast couldn’t come soon enough.

She needed to escape the confines of the firehouse and _Matt_. He wasn’t trying to do anything. That was the worst part. He was keeping his distance and focusing on the job, but that was what was getting to her.

Matt simply being Matt and being truly extra about his job was one of the first things that had drawn her to him. Now here he is pulling overtime on this homeless encampment incident. He and Severide were so focused on this explosion and adamant that whoever rigged it was a threat to their neighborhood and the city as a whole. The determination and commitment was damned attractive.

She needed to get away from it.

As luck would have it, the bells rang out as soon as that wish crossed her mind.

It was a call at a graveyard. She and Mackey immediately got the chills upon parking near the accident scene — and they weren’t from the cold.

Turns out, a grave digger went a little too hard with a shovel in the frozen ground. It rebounded and sliced his leg open, but that wasn’t even the biggest problem. No, the biggest problem was that this man was huge — in a heavily muscled sort of way — and no combination of people on the scene could get him on the gurney. 

Sylvie huffed after their third attempt and decided enough was enough.

“Main, this Ambo 61 requesting a man power assist at Bohemian National Cemetery.”

“Copy that, 61. Sending the nearest company your way. ETA two minutes.”

She and Mackey kept the wound wrapped tightly while they waited and exactly two minutes later Engine 40 appeared. Sylvie grinned secretively as the rig parked and Greg stepped out, looking extremely appealing in his turnouts and beanie. 

“You ladies call for backup?” He asked as he and his guys approached.

She nodded and tucked her grin away, professionalism taking over. “Grab a side and help us lift the backboard onto the gurney.”

“You got it,” he replied, waving his crew over and directing them around the board. “Everybody lift on three.”

They got the man on the gurney and Greg’s crew helped Mackey load the patient into the ambo. Before she walked away to drive the patient to Med, he stopped her with a hand on her arm. He squeezed gently and winked.

“Good to see you in action again, PIC Brett.”

She laughed and patted his back as she walked away. “The feeling is extremely mutual, Lieutenant.”

She needed that. She needed that reminder of who’s there in front of her now instead of who would never return her feelings. The rest of shift passed easier after that. Before she knew it, she was changing out in the locker room again — this time on her way out to wait for Greg.

“Hey,” Stella greeted as she stopped in front of her locker in her casual clothes.

“Hey!” Sylvie replied happily. “Things seem to be back on track with you and Severide, I’ve noticed.”

Stella smiled warmly and nodded. “We’re getting there. Now that he’s actually _speaking_ , the lovable dumbass.”

Sylvie chuckled. “Well, I’m happy to hear it. I’m glad you guys worked it out even if I miss my temporary roomie.”

“I know! I miss you too! We need to keep up the quality girl time. Oh! What about breakfast? You busy?”

She felt the grin and blush before she realized it was happening. “Well, _actually_...I have plans already.”

Stella’s eyes narrowed on Sylvie’s blush. “Like _date_ plans?”

She nodded. “Date number two actually.”

There was a smack to her arm and a loud gasp before Stella whispered harshly. “ _That’s_ why you weren’t at Molly’s last night! You little sneak! Was it Grainger? Please tell me you came to your senses and let Lieutenant Gorgeous sweep you off your feet?”

She presses her lips together to hold back a giddy smile. “Figuratively and literally, yes.”

“Does that mean what I think it—“

“Yep.”

“Okay, whenever you and Lieutenant Gorgeous are done for the day I’m coming over and you are spilling everything! I know I’ve been in that make up bubble, but I cannot miss this!” Stella exclaimed excitedly. “It’s about time you let loose and had some fun! I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you,” Sylvie replied with a confident nod. “I’m happy for me too.” She winced as she glanced down at her watch. “I should change out. Greg should be here to pick me up soon.”

“Have so much fun! And call me after so we can hang out!”

“I will,” she promised as she grabbed her clothes from her locker to change. “On both counts.”

Thankfully, she didn’t see Matt again as she left and Greg arrived just as she was finishing her last report. Perfect timing. 

They talked more at breakfast. Their conversation at dinner last night never drifted too deep but this one did. Like her, Greg never wanted to leave Chicago. His dedication to his firehouse family was equal to her own. That house held his future, no matter what else may happen in his life. He also told her that he’s very close to his family. He grew up in the suburbs and his family still lived there. Every holiday was spent with them and his siblings and their children.

They talked about what they want for the future too and they wanted all the same things. A partnership where communication was key and decisions were made together.

Greg Grainger was practically perfect.

They parted ways with a kiss outside of the door to her building. She told him Kidd wanted to have a bit of girl time and he understood. He told her to call him later if she wanted to hang out. He’d be around.

She’d gone upstairs and called Stella who immediately came over, eager to hear all about Grainger.

“Only the best Rosé for you, my friend,” Stella declared as Sylvie opened her apartment door.

She laughed and accepted the bottle. Heading inside, she motioned for Stella to follow her. “You just want me tipsy so I’ll spill details.”

Stella chuckled and shut the door behind her. “How else am I supposed to learn anything juicy?”

“All you need to know is that Greg is extremely capable,” Sylvie told her as she walked toward her kitchen, smirking the entire time. “I have not one single complaint and I’m still a little sore.”

“That good, huh?” Kidd asked, eyebrows lifting. “Damn, girl. Good for you.”

She took down two wine glasses and then got out her corkscrew from the drawer by the fridge. “It was... _fun_. Someone told me recently I needed to get out and have a little fun and you know what? They were totally right. I let everything that’s happened recently -- not just with...Casey but everything from last year -- bog me down and with Greg there’s no history there. When I’m with him I can focus on _him_ and _me_ and nothing else. There’s no ghost hanging over me. I don’t know it feels...simple. I’ve missed simple.”

Stella scoffed and crossed into the kitchen as Sylvie opened the bottle of wine. “Tell me about it. Kelly and I are in a good place again but everything is still complicated. I don’t know that anything, outside of how much I love him, is ever going to be simple again.”

“It must be nice though,” Sylvie said, pouring them both glasses. “To have the actual love you feel for him be simple -- even if it’s the only thing ever will be. I’ve never had that with anyone. Loving someone has never felt simple to me, you know? I’ve never felt confident that another person loves me and only me and that they would choose me each and every time. I don’t know if Greg can eventually be that person, but I feel like I owe it to myself to find out.”

“You do,” Stella assured her, reaching out and squeezing her hand. “You definitely do.”

She squeezed Stella’s hand in return and then they made their way over to her couch. As they sat down, Stella’s phone pinged with a text message. After reading it, she looked up at Sylvie with a sugary sweet smile.

Sylvie sighed. She knew what that smile meant. “What did you do?”

“I hope you don’t mind, but I invited Severide to join us.”

“Stella! This is supposed to be a girls’ night!”

“I know, I know, but I was thinking…”

“Oh, God, here we go.”

“Maybe you could invite Grainger and we could make it like a double at-home date.”

“I’ve only been on two dates with him, Stella! How is this a good idea?” Sylvie asked her with a groan.

“Because you’ve been through a lot lately and I want to judge this guy for myself. Let me be protective. I’m good at it,” Stella explained before taking a long sip of her wine and waiting expectantly for an answer.

Sylvie wasn’t going to win this one. She could tell by the determined gleam in her best friend’s eyes. She huffed in resignation and nodded as she pulled her phone out of her pocket. “Fine, I will ask him if he wants to come over. I’m not going to force him.”

“Fair enough, but if he’s as into you as I think he is then he’ll come.”

She was right. He replied less than five seconds later with an acceptance and that he would be there within a half hour. Stella flashed her a large told-you-so grin and then ordered them all dinner from the Chinese place around the corner.

Severide showed up just minutes ahead of Greg.

“So, who’s our fourth again?” Severide asked Sylvie when Stella excused herself to the bathroom.

“Greg Grainger—“

“The Lieutenant from 40? The house that dumped all the donuts on our apron? There’s jelly stains in the pavement now, you know,” Severide said with a chuckle. “That was pretty clever, especially for Rutledge.”

“It was,” Sylvie agreed with a soft laugh. “And, yes, the Lieutenant from 40.”

Severide nodded. His eyes flitted around the apartment before he cleared his throat awkwardly and found her eyes again. “So, are you, uh, serious about this guy or...what?”

Her eyes narrowed on him. Severide has never really butted into her personal life and she knew him choosing to do so now wasn’t a coincidence. Whatever reason he had for asking had to do with Matt. 

“Is there a reason I shouldn’t be serious about him?” She asked, careful not to give away an answer to Severide’s question.

“No. No, I mean, that’s not for me to say, is it?” He replied, clearing his throat nervously. “That’s up to you and however you feel about Grainger or... _anyone_ else.”

She opened her mouth to respond — maybe to vent a little — because she wouldn’t _have_ to be serious about someone else if Matt wasn’t still in love with Gabby but the words were lost in her throat as a knock sounded on her door.

She opened it to find Greg on the other side holding a large brown paper bag. She smiled brightly at the sight of him. Having him here meant she could ignore Severide’s last statement.

“Hey,” Greg said, leaning down to kiss her as he walked into her apartment. “I ran across the delivery guy downstairs and accepted the food for us. Hope that’s okay.”

She took the bag from him and nodded. “Of course. How much do we owe you?”

He waved her off before nodding at Severide in a brief greeting. “Don’t worry about it.”

She turned on a dime, feeling guilty that he paid when this whole thing was Stella’s idea. “Greg, you really didn’t have to! We can pay you—“

“Sylvie, seriously, it wasn’t a big deal. I’m happy to do it,” he insisted. He then turned toward Severide, motioning to himself. “Greg Grainger. I don’t think we’ve officially met.”

“Kelly Severide. I work at 51 with Brett.”

“Right. On Squad?”

Severide nodded. “And you’re on engine at 40?”

“Yeah, we’re a smaller house so my company takes on a bit more than most engine companies,” he explained. “It’s good though. Keeps us on our toes.”

Stella came back then and introduced herself to Grainger too. “We met in passing very briefly.”

“We did but I already know your reputation. Hell of a firefighter, from what I hear, and out for mine or Severide’s job,” He replied with a dry chuckle. “If you need any help with anything before the exam let me know. It hasn’t been that long since I took it myself.”

Stella looked touched and impressed as she gave Grainger a grateful smile. “Oh, yeah, thanks. I might take you up on that sometime.”

“Please do.”

They divided up the food and then settled around her kitchen table. Sylvie could tell Severide tried to be wary of Greg at first and she can’t say she blamed him. If the roles were reversed and Severide was seeing someone who wasn’t Stella she’d react much the same way. It was a sign of Severide’s loyalty to Matt — not that she really understood why. Matt was seeing someone else. There was no reason he would care if she did the same.

But as the conversation and the meal went on, Greg won Severide over. Dinner ended and they all moved back to the living room. Greg and Severide were having some sort of highly animated discussion about cars. Every word they said sounded like a foreign language to her. She couldn’t keep up.

Stella pulled her aside with a warm smile and excited eyes. “Girl, he is _amazing_.”

“I know,” Sylvie replied with a soft laugh. “He just keeps getting better and better as hard as that is to imagine.”

“Oh, I can imagine. Just think, if it works out we could have more double dates. We make a pretty great foursome, right? I’d be down for more nights like this in our future.”

The future? A future with Greg? She tried to picture it. Right there, in her living room with Stella standing next to her, she tried to conjure up the image, but after nearly a full minute of trying _nothing_ appeared. A future with Greg was simply... _blank_ like a lonely undressed stage. No sets, no props, no costumes, or even actors. Just _nothing_.

Suddenly, she felt claustrophobic. She wasn’t claustrophobic but it felt like the walls were closing in nonetheless. She rushed to the kitchen with her wine glass in hand, cutting off whatever else Stella was saying, and poured herself another generous glass of wine. She’d guzzled almost half of it by the time Stella caught on to her distress.

“Okay, what’s happening right now?” Kidd asked her in a quiet whisper to keep the guys from overhearing them.

“Is it odd that when I try to picture my future all I see are color bars? You know, like a TV that’s on the blink?” Sylvie asked as she tried to hold her panic at bay. “I don’t see Greg, I don’t see you and Severide — hell, I don’t even see _me_. My future is _empty_. I mean that can’t be good, right?”

“No, Brett, cut yourself some slack,” Stella said with a reassuring squeeze to her shoulder. “You’ve had two dates with the guy. Honestly, I’d be a little concerned if you were already seeing two kids, a dog, and a white picket fence. All you can do is figure it out as you go. You don’t always have to think three steps ahead, even though I know you like to. Relax and enjoy it.”

She breathed a sigh of relief and let Stella’s words calm her fears. Stella was right. It was okay to sit back, relax, and enjoy something. She didn’t always have to have a plan.

“Now, come on, dig out your pictionary. We’ll play guys versus girls and kick their asses,” Stella suggested with a wink as she picked up her own glass and hurried back to the couch.

Sylvie followed, trying not to think about the last time she’d played a game with a friend in her living room. That didn’t matter right now. What did matter is Greg and her friends. _The present_. Not the past.

******

_It was the great escape, the prison break,_

_The light of freedom on my face._

******

Stella and Severide left around eleven and Greg immediately began to help her clean up. He’d been amazing with her friends. He fit right in as if he’d always been there. Stella was right. They could do double dates like that more often if she and Greg decided to keep dating. It was encouraging and really the first time she’d started seeing someone who wanted to fit his life to hers. Usually, she did all the adapting, but she could already tell that things would be different with Greg.

For the first time, in a long time, she had hope that maybe she was on the right path.

Yes, she had the occasional moment of doubt, but didn’t everyone?

“Alright,” Greg said, drying his hands on a kitchen towel. “I guess I’d better hit the road.”

“Why?” Sylvie asked in surprise.

He blinked at her in confusion, mouth slightly agape. “I—um, I don’t know. Do you want me to stay?”

“Do _you_ want to stay?”

“I didn’t want to assume I could, but...yeah. I’d like to stay.”

Sylvie beamed brightly at him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Good because I want you to stay too.”

“I like your friends,” he admitted as his hands slid around her waist.

“They liked you too. Thank you for coming over. I know this was last minute.”

“Are you kidding?” He asked excitedly. “I’m grateful you included me. You didn’t have to do that.” He rests his brow against hers and grins affectionately. “I really like you too, you know.”

She giggled and nodded against his forehead. “I guessed as much. Which is good because I feel the same way.”

He tightened his hold on her and then closed the space between them for a searching kiss. His hands drifted to her thighs and lifted causing her to wrap her legs around his waist. He walked them backward from the kitchen to the living room and, despite his exceptional kisses, she was keenly aware that he was walking them toward her couch. She didn’t want to go there. Not with Greg. She didn’t want to think too hard on why.

She pulled back from his kiss, craning her neck to meet his eyes. “No,” she ordered, pointing behind him. “The bedroom.”

He smirked wickedly at her before stopping on a dime and changing their trajectory. “Copy that.”

He kicked her bedroom door shut behind them and then playfully tossed her onto the bed. She yelped out a laugh and then swiftly reached out to wrap her fingers around the belt loops on his jeans, yanking him down onto the bed with her.

They spent the rest of the night laughing and kissing and getting swept up in eachother. She woke up the next morning tangled in her bedsheets with Greg’s t-shirt on, feeling completely famished. The smell of coffee and bacon flooded her senses and lured her out of the bedroom. She found Greg cooking breakfast in her kitchen, wearing nothing more than his boxers and a pair of socks. He was humming to himself as he cooked, turning bacon and then scrambling eggs.

He was adorable and the scene in front of her was everything she’d ever wanted, but somehow she still felt as if something were missing. But no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t put her finger on the flaw. She never could name it.

And then he glanced over his shoulder at her, wearing a soft sleepy smile. All worries about the image feeling incomplete were forgotten. Stella told her to enjoy it. She was determined to do just that.

She stood at his side, wrapping an around his waist and leaning her hip against him. “Full disclosure, there is one test any man I date absolutely _must_ pass.”

“Oh yeah?” He asked with a deep chuckle. “What’s that?”

“You _have_ to watch Flip or Flop with me. If you don’t then I’ve gotta rethink this entire arrangement,” she teased. “So I vote when you finish breakfast, we take our plates to the living room and find out how badly you want to keep dating me.”

“Bring it on,” he replied with a wink. “Nothing you could do or watch is gonna scare me away, Brett. I’m here to stay.”

She found herself wishing that were true, but somehow knowing it wasn’t. Not that she’d ever admit that to herself.

They spent the day alternating watching Flip or Flop and fooling around like a couple of teenagers. She laughed a lot. It felt remarkably good to be happy again — to not constantly dwell on what could have been. She wanted to hold onto it as long as she could but there was a feeling of foreboding nagging at her as their last day off came to a close.

Greg was leaving her place pretty early in the evening to make sure he could get home in time to catch plenty of sleep before shift.

As they stood across her doorway kissing goodbye, he pulled away from her with a tender smile. “I have a meeting with my Chief tomorrow after shift so I won’t be done right on time, but we should meet for breakfast after. I’ll call you when he and I finish up?”

She nodded and kissed him one more time. “Absolutely. I’m in.”

“Good,” he said with a firm nod. “I’ll see you the day after tomorrow then.”

She leaned against the door jamb and watched him as he walked down the hall, biting her bottom lip and letting herself thoroughly enjoy the swagger in his walk. God, he was sexy.

Not to mention, everything she’d ever wanted.

But still…

That incomplete feeling persisted. 

What did that mean? Why couldn’t she shake it?

Her perfect opportunity for the life she’d always wanted was right in front of her. She’d be crazy to let that go. The incomplete feeling would go away. It had to.

******

_Well, he was running after us, I was screaming, "Go, go, go!"_

_But with three of us, honey, it's a sideshow._

******

“So, how’s Lieutenant Gorgeous?” Stella asked as they finished changing out for shift.

Sylvie chuckled at her and shook her head. “You know it’s Grainger, right? He has an actual name?”

“Yes, but Lieutenant Gorgeous has a better ring to it than Greg Grainger. I mean, what is he? A reporter from a 1930s Cary Grant movie?” Stella said with a teasing grimace.

“He’s great. I’m meeting him for breakfast after shift tomorrow so date number three is approaching.”

“Oh, that’s the serious one,” Stella reminded her. “I mean I know you guys have already…” She performed a slightly obscene gesture, making Sylvie bite her lip to keep from laughing. “But still that’s sort of the point of no return, you know?”

Sylvie nodded, tying her shoes as she answered. “I know.”

Kidd glanced around the locker room before sitting down next to her on the bench. “Not that I’m not completely happy for you or want you to do whatever it is that will make you happiest, but...are you sure you’re ready for this so soon after _The Incident_?”

An instinctive tired sigh escaped her. She’d been willingly ignoring the sense that something wasn’t quite right with Grainger since he left her apartment last night. She could lie to herself. That was easy. But lying to her friends? She was never good at that.

“No,” she answered honestly. “But I’m tired of waiting to be over him. What does sitting around feeling heartbroken get me? And Greg is completely perfect. How can I let someone as wonderful as he is get away? I would truly be an idiot to miss out on the perfect man because someone else doesn’t want me the way I wanted them to. So, maybe it doesn’t matter if I’m ready -- maybe I never will be -- but I can’t sit around and let life happen to me. If I want something I have to make it happen. I couldn’t make anything happen with Matt and that’s fine. But life goes on and so do I.”

Stella’s expression was doubtful but sympathetic as she absently nodded along. “Yeah, I guess that’s true. I just don’t want you to do something you’ll regret, that’s all.”

“Well, then you’ll have to go back in time and stop me from kissing Matt Casey because right now that’s my _only_ regret.”

That was the most painful truth she had ever put into words.

She headed out of the locker room and to the app floor to start inventory. She felt eyes on her as she counted and looked up. On the other end of the app floor stood Severide and Casey, when her eyes meet Casey’s both men quickly look away. Before he looked away from her, Casey’s face was full of conflict. Doubt, hurt, and _fear_. A part of her still felt the urge to pull him aside and ask him what was wrong, but that wasn’t her role in his life anymore. He had Sydney for that these days.

Just as she finished inventory a call went out for Ambo and Truck. Both rigs arrived at a small park, really more of a patch of grass than a park, and walked toward the middle. In the middle of this park stood a tree and underneath it was a man being crushed by a large tree limb. The ice of the recent snow storm had weighed it down and broken it off. Right on top of their victim. As they got closer, Sylvie began to notice something strange with the man under the limb.

His clothing was very bright and not at all weather appropriate. Not only that, but his shoes seemed disproportionately large.

“You gotta be kidding me,” she muttered under her breath.

Mouch, Stella, and Matt all slid their gazes over to her, watching her warily.

On the bench across from the tree sat a bag of props and a laptop and on the ground, laying haphazardly in the snow, was a voluminous neon orange wig.

“We’re here to save a clown?” Mackey exclaimed in astonishment. “This is a first for me.”

“Not for me,” Brett informed her with a shudder. “Let’s just get this over with. I _hate_ clowns.”

Truck got to work cutting up the tree limb and removing it slowly. Thankfully, the clown didn’t appear to be gravely injured. He had a gash on his forehead, scrapes and cuts on his arms and neck, but nothing that looked life threatening. Once the limb was gone, Brett and Mackey stepped in to assess him. He was conscious and alert by then, the sawing having woken him.

Sylvie knew the minute she saw his creepy clown make-up that his was going to be her worst call of the day. The painted on smile was absolutely disturbing but it was made worse by the victim’s additional grin. He had to be in pain so why was he grinning? It only made the painted grin unnaturally large. Her whole body shuddered again before she directed Mackey to treat the gash on his forehead.

She began prodding his chest, trying to assess any other injuries. He yelped when she reached one of his ribs causing Sylvie to jump a mile off the cold ground. The clown grinned again and then shouted a loud booming “Boo!” at her. When she jumped a second time, he cackled. To her ears it was a true evil villain cackling and cranked up her nerves even more than they were before.

“Hey, Bozo!” Matt shouted. “You wanna cut it out while the medics are trying to treat you? I don’t think it’s the best idea to scare the people responsible for giving you painkillers.”

“Nobody has a sense of humor anymore,” the patient grumbled.

Matt glared at him over Sylvie’s shoulder and the man rolled his eyes but agreed.

“Fine.”

Matt’s hand squeezed her shoulder briefly leading her to glance up at him. His eyes were amused but his smile was compassionate. While she and Mackey finished wrapping and preparing him to be placed on the backboard, Matt crouched beside her.

“You know, I had a friend who was a clown. He performed on stilts,” Matt began, grinning crookedly. He paused and nodded to himself before meeting her eyes. “I always looked up to him.”

Despite the situation, her fear, and the jerk-like patient she couldn’t help but laugh out loud. The entire scenario was suddenly more hilarious than it was scary. Matt knowingly pointed out the absurdity with his terrible joke, allowing Sylvie to relax and focus entirely on her job.

“Okay, let’s get him onto a backboard and then the gurney,” Sylvie ordered with a disbelieving smile. How did he know exactly what to say? Matt Casey was _full_ of surprises.

“What a nice jester,” Mackey quipped with a smirk.

A laugh tried to break free again and Sylvie barely held it back. It came out as a choked indelicate snort, which in turn caused Matt to laugh. They all quietly snickered the entire time they worked to load him up into the ambulance.

“At least you’re not driving a clown car. Then you’d have to fit more than one of him in here,” Matt told her as Mackey climbed in back with the patient.

She laughed again and then playfully smacked his arm. “Stop that! I’m trying to work here. Your horrible jokes aren’t helping.”

His mirthful stare sobered very slightly while his smile softened into a fond one that regarded her with too much familiarity. He knew her too well. 

“They aren’t?” He asked with a secretive grin. “Because I think they were exactly what the situation called for.”

She smiled at him but rolled her eyes. “Maybe.” Her expression grew more serious as well as she gave him a thankful soft grin. “Thanks for the assist.”

He nodded -- so low that it practically resembled a bow -- and met her eyes with an earnest gaze that was almost breathtaking. “Anytime,” he promised.

That one moment followed her around for the rest of her shift. Through every other call and any break at the Firehouse she saw Matt’s grin and heard his voice reassuring her. At one point she caught herself sighing wistfully like a lovesick teenager and cursed herself.

Why was she still swooning over him? What was it going to take for it to sink in that he was still in love with Gabby and, judging by how quickly he moved on, not attached to her at all? When was she going to stop wanting him every minute of every day? Because she did.

No matter who else she was with or what she tried to do to distract herself that yearning for him was always there, just under the surface. 

Even when she was alone with Greg, Matt was somehow always _there_. On her mind, in her heart, around the corner of her eye…

He never went away.

He never would go away. 

As perfect as Greg was, she would always want Matt Casey more.

Tears formed in her eyes at that realization.

Oh, _no_. What had she done? What had she possibly been thinking?

This whole time while she’d been trying to recover from being second best in Matt’s heart, she’d let someone else be second best in her own. _Dammit_ , she was such a hypocrite. How could she let this happen?

She was being completely unfair to Greg. She couldn’t put her entire life on hold to get over Matt, that’s true, but she can’t let other people be collateral damage on her path to move on. Greg didn’t deserve to be in a relationship where he would always be living in another man’s shadow. That would hurt him deeply in the long run and she would not do that to him.

 _Fuck_.

Stella was right. She was _not_ ready for this. She couldn’t go on their third date.

She warned Greg that he didn’t want to date her. She should have stayed firm on that from the very beginning.

******

_Should've known I'd be the first to leave,_

_Think about the place where you first met me._

******

She decided not to wait for Greg to call her about breakfast. He left her with the impression that his meeting with his Chief wouldn’t take long so she had a feeling she could drive over to the house and catch him as he was leaving.

Better to own up to the damage she caused in person, completely separate from any possible date.

She ran out of the house without stopping to speak with anyone else. She didn’t want to lose her nerve or stop to talk herself out of it. She _needed_ to end things with Greg.

She parked along the curb outside of the Firehouse 40 and texted Greg to let him know she was outside whenever he was done. About five minutes later he stepped outside, spotting her car immediately. She stepped out and walked across 40’s small apron until they were within a few feet of each other.

“We need to talk,” she started with a nervous gulp.

He nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets. His expression was deceptively neutral. He knew something was wrong. He stepped closer until they were both leaning against the side of her car. 

“What about?” He asked. She could tell by his tone that he already knew.

“I really like you, Greg,” Sylvie stated, avoiding his eyes. “I liked you so much that I wanted to pretend this could work--”

“Don’t say that.”

“I have to.”

He watched her closely for a moment, no doubt taking in the way her eyes glistened and her mouth was set in a grim frown, and then nodded. “I wish you wouldn’t.”

“It’s not fair to you,” she admitted, sighing deeply. “You’re so incredibly good and you deserve someone who isn’t…”

“Isn’t what?” He asked.

“In love with someone else. I’ve tried not to be, but no matter what I do those feelings won’t go away. I don’t want them. I’d rather be in love with you to be honest,” she told him, sniffling softly.

He swallowed thickly, looking anywhere but at her. “I get it. We can’t choose who we love. It just happens. _It sucks_.”

She snorted derisively in agreement. “Yes, it does.”

“Is it the five minute relationship guy? The one you told me about?”

She forgot she’d told him that actually, but she nodded in reply. “Yeah, I guess I just don’t have closure on it yet. I don’t know if I ever will to be honest. The question of ‘what if’ is always there in the back of my mind no matter where I am or who I’m with. You don’t deserve to live with that. You deserve someone wonderful and completely devoted to you in the same way you’ll devote yourself to them. That person isn’t me no matter how badly I want it to be.”

Silence overtook them both and Sylvie found herself unable to interpret it.

“Do you...do you hate me?” She asked him fearfully.

“It would be easier if I could,” he said, truthfully. “But no, I could never hate you, Sylvie. You were trying your best to be happy. That’s all any of us are doing. Sometimes it works out and sometimes it doesn’t. This is one of those times where it didn’t work out. It hurts because I do really like you -- more than I’ve liked anyone in a long time -- but you can’t make yourself feel something you don’t and I would never ask you to.”

“God, how are you so perfect?” Sylvie asked him with a groan. “That’s rhetorical, by the way. You don’t actually need to answer.”

He chuckled softly and reached out to squeeze her hand, wrapping his fingers around hers. “You’re pretty perfect too. Whoever this guy is that you’re hung up on...he’s an idiot. If it were me, I’d count my lucky stars every night and never let you go.”

“I’m really sorry, Greg,” she apologized, tears filling her eyes again. “I hate that I let you get caught in the middle of my mess.”

He shrugged and twined their fingers together. “I don’t regret it. It was a pleasure getting to know you, Sylvie, and besides that...we did have fun, didn’t we?”

She smiled fondly and met his eyes for the first time since this conversation began. “Yeah, we did.”

“Listen, if anything ever changes and you find yourself ready to move on--”

“You’re my first phone call.”

He let out a long exhale, looking tired and defeated, before he leaned toward her and kissed her temple. It felt like a goodbye, which is exactly what it should be.

“Good,” he replied. “Keep me in mind, that’s all I ask. I hope you find the closure you need, Sylvie Brett. You, of all people, deserve to be happy.”

A few tears trailed down her cheeks as she wrapped her arms around him tightly. “I’m gonna miss you, Greg Grainger. I hope you find someone who can love you with her whole heart.”

“You too,” he whispered against her hair before finally stepping out of her arms.

He walked backwards across the apron, back toward the entrance to the firehouse, and waved weakly. “See you around.”

She nodded and reached for her car door. “See you around.”

******

_It's no surprise, I turned you in,_

_'Cause us traitors never win._

******

She spent her 48 off drowning her sorrows in wine and ice cream.

She was going to die alone because she couldn’t make herself forget Matt Casey.

Honestly, it was what she deserved. First, for Kyle, and then for Greg. Two nice guys that she completely left twisting in the wind feeling more for her than she could ever feel for them.

Well, this was the last time. No one else was going to get hurt because of her feelings for Matt Casey. She was just going to have to grit her teeth and work through them.

Or never date again.

Neither option seemed particularly appealing.

This would all be so much simpler if Matt could love her the way she loved him.

Why can’t he do that?

She ignored her phone for two days. She tucked it into her nightstand drawer and kept it on silent. She didn’t want to explain anything to anyone and Stella was sure to have questions. As far as she knew, Sylvie was supposed to go on her third date with Greg immediately following their shift -- not dump him.

She didn’t bother to glance at her phone before leaving for the Firehouse or walking onto the apparatus floor. She was irritated and slightly hungover. She could deal with her phone once she got to work on time. 

Her feet carried her over the apron and through the bay doors, but they stopped short at the sight of Engine 51.

Her eyes widened and she blinked owlishly at the figure leaning against the rig’s front bumper.

“Greg?” She asked in horror.

He smiled, but it looked more like a wince, and stepped away from Ritter to talk to her. “Hi.”

“Hi? Why are you here?” She was completely confused.

“I tried to call you multiple times and then I tried to text you, but you never responded--”

“I took a sabbatical from my phone over the last 48 hours.”

“Obviously,” he replied with a tiny grin. “Herrmann needed the day off and I was asked to fill in. I hope that’s okay?”

“Uh--yeah! I mean of course! I’m okay as long as you’re okay. You’re okay, right?” She asked, rambling on awkwardly.

He grinned at her and chuckled. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Great!” She said with false brightness, trying her hardest not to panic. “Then so am I!”

“Great,” Grainger repeated, smiling knowingly at her.

She stood there for several more seconds, not saying anything additional or moving at all, before spotting Stella heading for 81. “Um, gotta go. Bye!” She didn’t hear if Grainger said goodbye in return. All she saw was Stella.

She grabbed Stella’s wrist and dragged her into the turnout room.

“Houston, we have a problem,” she said as the door closed behind them.

“What problem? I thought you’d be thrilled to have your boyfriend on shift with--”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Sylvie declared with a wince. “I broke up with him after last shift.”

“What? Why?” Stella asked with a look of sympathy and surprise.

“Because you were right. I’m not ready and I...I’m in love with Matt. I hate to admit that I am but denying it got me absolutely nowhere. I can’t date Greg while I’m in love with someone else. That’s cruel to both of us.”

“How’d he take it?” Stella asked, placing a soothing hand on Sylvie’s arm.

“Admirably well. We had a good talk. But I never expected to have to spend a whole shift with him! Now I have two people I pseudo-dated under the same roof with me for 24 hours! What am I supposed to do with that?” Sylvie asked her as she began pacing anxiously. “I mean, this can’t end well, right?”

“Probably not,” Kidd agreed. “But there’s nothing you can do to stop it now. It’s happening, babe. You better get used to it.”

She sighed and massaged her temples. “Yeah, yeah, okay.”

This was just another piece of her punishment for hurting Greg. The only thing she could do was stand back and let it happen and hope the entire shift doesn’t go to hell because of it.

Stella grinned at her and then hugged her tightly. “I guess I better go make some popcorn. I have a feeling this shift is gonna be better than an episode of The Bachelor.”

Sylvie laughed, unable to do anything else in this ridiculous situation, and gently tugged Stella’s bun. “God, I hate you sometimes.”

“No, you don’t,” Kidd replied with a chuckle, rubbing Sylvie’s back soothingly.

She rested her chin and Stella’s shoulder and leaned into the hug. “No, I don’t. At least I still have you.”

“Well, you’ll always have me. Dumb boys come and go but you and me--that’s for life,” Stella promised.

She could do this. As long as she had Stella, she could face anything.

Even one man whose heart she broke and another who broke hers.

Ugh, this day was going to be unbearable.

******

_No, nothing good starts in a getaway car._

******


End file.
